White Rose
by DesertFlower1
Summary: Set after X3. What happens when Logan returns after leaving for so long? Can Ororo take the pressure of being head of the team? Can they find strength within each other?
1. All That I Got

**Title: White Rose**

**Type: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Note Some of the scenes in this fanfic are previously used in an rp I belong to. However, what you see here is all mine. I have wrote this all at one point in time or another. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. Though, it would completely make my life if I did…too bad I don't. Dang. **

**Chapter: All That I Got. **

**7:47 a.m.**

**Xavier's Old Office.**

With twelve minutes until the first day of school started Ororo Munroe stood in the middle of Charles Xavier's old office. She'd never came into the office before this day. But today Ororo's usual level head was overflowing with thoughts. Worries, to be exact. Questions that forced her to think of the worst. What if the students didn't react well to her being head of the school? What the Brotherhood saw her as a weakness and struck the school? What if Warren Worthington II found a new type of cure? What if...

These thoughts led Ororo to the office in hopes of seeking some answers or help. She could feel Xavier's presence. She could feel his spirit in the room, watching her as she worried. She could-

"-Miss Munroe?"

The weather witch's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. She smiled to herself and turned to face the teenage girl standing in the doorway. "Yes, Kitty?"

Though the girl looked slightly alarmed to find her teacher in the office of the previous headmaster, Kitty spoke. "Uhm, I just thought you'd like to know that...uhm."

Ororo tilted her head slightly in curiosity. "What is it?"

This time Kitty smiled. "Logan's back."

* * *

**7:54 a.m. **

**End of Staircase.**

With a bag slung over his shoulder and a burning cigar between his lips, Logan was back. After the final death of Jean Grey, Logan had gone into a calloused state. He left not even days after the others returned to the school. Ororo had tried to stop and convince him to stay. But Logan had only shook his head and told the beauty that a beast like him needed to get out.

And now he was standing inside the school again, four months later. Knowing that he wouldn't be seeing Xavier or Scott or Jean ever again sent a slight chill down Logan's spine. But he was over it by now. Death was something he was used to. And Jean? He never truly knew if she loved him at all. Wasn't Scott the one who'd own the key to Jean Grey's heart?

Logan pushed the memory of the redhead away. His attention was brought to the top of the staircase where soft steps were heard. He cracked a smile. "Hey 'Ro."

Standing at the top of the stairs in a perplexed sort of state, Ororo Munroe stared at the rough and ragged man below her. She was at a lost for words; expecting to never see him again Storm had no idea what to say.

Logan raised an eyebrow and took his burning cigar from between his lips. "Not even a hello?"

Her eyebrows furrowed but her confused look did not fade from her face. "You came back."

"Yeah." Logan nodded, and returned his cigar to its rightful place. "I came back."

Ororo took a step down. "Why?"

Taken aback by the sudden question, Logan repeated her. "Why?"

Ororo nodded. "Why?"

Logan frowned in a amused sort of way. "I got lonely." He shrugged. "Kinda missed the cookin' 'round here."

When Ororo said nothing he followed his statement with, "It was a joke, 'Ro."

"You left when we needed you the most." She was at the first landing of the stairs, halfway to the bottom.

Logan sighed and refused to look at her. " 'Ro, not now. I don't wanna hear-"

"I don't _care_ if you _want_ to hear this or _not_, Logan."

Something in her voice made him look up. Were those tears in Ororo's eyes? Logan gulped. " 'Ro...it's not as easy as yah-"

"Those children _needed_ you!" She continued, cutting him off again. "Logan, just because there was a death does _not _mean that you abandonyour friends."

A flit of anger sheered through Wolverine. "_A_ death? Try three, sweetheart."

Ororo lowered her eyes, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. When she looked back up at Logan, she didn't remove it. "I have to be strong for every single one of the students in this school. I can't be strong for you too, Logan. Now tell me, are you here to stay?"

They locked eyes.

"Or are you just here?"

**A/N: Hmm...liking this one? Let me know!**


	2. Black Velvet

**Title: White Rose**

**Type: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Note: Some of the scenes in this fanfic are previously used in an rp I belong to. However, what you see here is all mine. I have wrote this all at one point in time or another. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. Though, it would completely make my life if I did…too bad I don't. Dang. **

**Chapter 2: Black Velvet**

**3:45 pm**

**Upstairs Hallway**

Laundry was a chore in which the students had to do on their own. And as Kitty Pryde carried her laundry basket down the long hallway towards the stairs, she couldn't help but groan inwardly at the large amount of clothes that she needed to have washed. As the young brunette passed the bedroom doors lined down the hallway, she stopped at one room just before reaching the stairs.

"Miss Munroe?" Kitty peered into her teacher's open room, a curious look upon her face.

Ororo looked up from her sitting position on her bed. "Come in."

Kitty set her dirty laundry hamper down before entering into the room. Never before being in the area, she took the opportunity to admire the plants that sat in the window seal and the French doors that led to a balcony over looking the backyard and garden.

Kitty whistled. "This is a nice place, yah got here."

Ororo smiled down at her hands.

Kitty took a seat next to her instructor. "Is something bothering you, Miss Munroe?"

The Weather Goddess turned her gaze at the pupil beside her. Her look was peculiar, as if she were distant and away from the entire world around her. Quickly rising from the bed, Ororo went to her closet, dismissing the skeptical look she was receiving from Kitty.

"What do you think of this dress?" Ororo pulled a black, strapless dress from her closet and held it against herself. The hem just barely swept the floor while 'Ro stood in her high heels.

Kitty's mouth dropped and she reached out to touch the material. "Is that velvet?"

Smiling, Ororo nodded. "Mhm. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful." Kitty breathed. "But what's it for? Is there a fancy party I don't know about?"

Frowning sadly, Ororo shook her head and sighed. "No, just a wishful thought."

"Thought of what?" Kitty tilted her head in curiosity.

Ororo sat down next to the girl and shrugged. "I bought that dress a long time ago, hoping that some time it'd get to be worn."

"How come haven't you worn it?"

Ororo gave Kitty a grin. "And when am I gonna do that? When I'm off fighting in combat? Or teaching you and your friends about history or the evolution of mutants?"

"Well," Kitty furrowed her eyebrows. "You could always go out one night."

Storm raised her own eyebrows. "Go out?"

Kitty nodded. "Yeah. You know, like, on a date. With a guy, involving dinner and maybe some dancing."

Shaking her head while smiling, Ororo chuckled. "And what guy would wanna take a mutant school teacher out?"

"Another mutant school teacher." Kitty said, getting up. "I could play match maker." Now she was teasing.

Ororo rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at the brunette. "Get outta here!"

Laughing, Kitty exited the room, picked up her laundry basket and continued down the stairs.

* * *

**4:13 pm**

**Bathroom. **

Fresh from a shower and still sopping wet, Logan only briefly glanced at his own complexion in the mirror. He wasn't much for primping and was surprised to actually find time to take a quick rinse.

So Ororo was right, he had left the students without any fair warning as to why, or when he'd be back. The snowplow won that portion of the argument. But that didn't mean he was going to let her win the next part.

Coming out of the bathroom with clouds of steam trailing after him, Logan made his way down the hall while using his towel to dry his unruly brown/black hair. The dark blue bathrobe that he wore was barely large enough to cover most of his chest hair.

As Logan was about to cross the hall towards his room he heard a soft sigh, one that could only be picked up by his hearing, come from the other side of the hallway.

Ororo's room.

The feral turned to see Ororo holding her black dress against her body again; admiring the fabric and shape of the clothing against her mocha colored skin. Gracefully, she glided around her room as if she were dancing with the dress on. But in a moment's time, Storm sighed again and shook her head.

"Who am I kidding?" She said softly, sounding almost depressed at the very sight of the gown. She held it by its hanger before delicately placing it back in her closet.

Quickly, Logan turned into his own room before she could see him, and closed the door.

**A/N: Hmmm reviews, maybe? **


	3. Why You Wanna Trip On me

**Note: Yes, the title of the chapters have specific ties to the chapter…you just have to read between the lines of either the song title, or the song. **

**Chapter 3: Why You Wanna Trip on Me**

**5:17 pm**

**Kitchen **

Jubilation Lee was just about to reach for the last piece of cherry pie on the counter when Pete Rasputin swooped in and slid the plate containing the pie away from her.

"Hey!" Jubilee yelped. "I was going for that!"

"Yeah?" Pete took a massive bite of the pie before shoving the plate back at Jubilee. "There yah go."

Glaring, Jubilee allowed her firecracker hands to start cackling in threatening manner.

Pete gave the Asian a cocky smirk. "Go ahead. See what happens when metal meets electricity."

Letting out a frustrated breath, Jubilee regained control over her powers and ignored the large teenager heckling her. She opened the silver fridge door, noting the six holes that have yet to be fixed since Logan had stabbed – and killed – an intruder from months ago. Gazing into the icebox, Jubilee contemplated over whether she wanted left over Macaroni and Cheese that Bobby and Arty had made, or the rice stew Ororo had tried to teach Domino to make the night before.

Since Domino had never been one for cooking, and the rice stew looked less than appetizing, Jubilee chose Mac 'n' Cheese. She took the Tupperware and placed it in the microwave to reheat the noodles. While the microwave started, Jubilee took a seat at the counter and flipped through a fashion magazine as she waited.

Breathe in…breathe out…breathe in…breathe out…

"Do you _mind_?"

Peter looked up. "Mind what?"

"Breathing."

He gave Jubilee an incredulous look. "What, you want me to suffocate or something?"

"Not today." Jubilee gave him a chummy smile.

Peter narrowed his eyes at her. "Cute."

The two ignored each other and returned to their previous activity. Soon, Jubilee became interested in an article about teenage street fashion. Absentmindedly, Jubilee tapped her fingers on the counter as she read on.

_Rap, tap, tap, tap. Rap, tap, tap, tap. Rap-_

"Would yah cut it out already?" Peter barked.

Jubilee looked up at him curiously. "What exactly am I doing?"

"You're_ tapping_!"

The look the Asian girl gave him a look that read 'are you on drugs?' "Since when did tapping become illegal?"

"When breathing did." Peter snapped.

Thankfully, the microwave beeped, indicating the ready of Jubilee's food. "Finally!" She jumped up and hurried to the appliance to retrieve her meal. She grabbed a fork from the silverware drawer, and with the Tupperware hot between her hands, left the room in a rush.

"Yeah, goodbye to you too!" Peter shouted after her. He rolled his eyes and returned to the crossword puzzle he was trying to do. "Girls."

* * *

**6:33 pm**

**Medical Lab. **

Twenty-one year old Domino was a woman of snow white skin, with one round, black spot over her left eye. While she may have looked slightly different from the rest, her character was incredibly likable to her teammates. As of four months ago, Domino had been a part of the X-Men. Much like Angel, she'd walked into the mansion in hopes of a safe place to stay and with open arms Ororo accepted the younger adult into the shared home.

At the present time, Domino was in the Medical Lab, nursing a sprained wrist while Ororo searched for a sling and arm wrap. Storm stood on her tiptoes on a footstep and tried to reach the very top shelf of the cabinets. By the way her body was angled it was amazing as to how she hadn't fallen yet.

'Ro stuck her tongue between her lips while she tried to reach for the box of wrappings. "So, tell me again how you did this."

"Well, you know that room underground?" Domino asked, cradling her arm and hopelessly trying to look innocent.

Ororo furrowed her eyebrows. "Which room?"

"The one on the right side. The Danger Room."

Bingo! Ororo found the wraps and sling, she grabbed the supplies and stepped down from the footstool. "And what exactly were you doing in there?"

Domino shrugged. "Practicin'. I lost."

'Ro smiled a little while she set to work on Domino's arm. "I can see that."

Silence filled the room as Ororo wrapped Domino's wrist tightly to support the bones. Domino, curious as to her friend's unexpected act of oddity, spoke. "So I see fur ball's back."

"Mhm," answered the weather goddess.

Domino, noting Ororo's refusal to look her in the eyes, continued. "Can I ask if your sudden act of quietness has to do with the big bad wolf returning?"

Ororo stopped and stared at the woman before her. "And why would you think that?"

The snow white skinned woman shrugged. "No reason. Just a hunch."

"Well that hunch of yours better walk on outta here." 'Ro instructed.

Now that her wrist was successfully wrapped, Domino slipped her arm through the sling and hopped off the medical bed she'd been sitting on. "Come on 'Ro, the clouds don't lie."

Inquisitive as to what in the world Domino meant, Ororo made her way to a window. In the sky above the clouds were dark grey and about to release lightning. Her lips spread apart in amazement. She hadn't realized how her out of tune her emotions were.

"So," Domino broke the silence. Ororo looked at her. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

**A/N: Think you know the answer?**


	4. The Ghost of a Good Thing

**Note: Thank yah kindly for the reviews! **

**Chapter 4: The Ghost of a Good Thing **

**10:41 pm**

**Moira's Bedroom**

**Apartment in NYC**

"Moira…"

She snapped her eyes open, hearing his call again. It'd been four months since she'd last freshly heard the sound of Charles' voice. But it'd haunted her dreams every night since then. The ex-wife of Charles Xavier, the great telepath, always knew her love was beyond marvelous. Too great for his own good, some would say. But to transfer his mutant abilities into a hospitalized human? It was simply impossible.

Or was it?

Moira reached for her glasses, which rested on the bedside table to her right. After slipping them on she read the digital clock on the same table. 10:42 PM, it flashed. It was quite early for her to retire for the evening. Usually she'd be doing extra medical work late into the night, but the exhaustion of such a task caught up to her.

Through the window a moderate breeze blew into the room, ruffling the baby strands of hair that circled Moira's face. The light pink colored night dress she wore to bed hung loosely from her shoulders as she stood from her bed and stretched. She shuffled her bare feet into the conjoining bathroom and flicked on the light.

Her home was silent, not a whisper anywhere. When Moira had first moved into the apartment the noiseless residence gave her an eerie feeling and she slept with the TV on for the first two months until she got used to Charles no longer lying beside her to protect her.

Charles. She missed him deeply. Their marriage ending was the last strand she had. Divorce was never something Moira wanted to result in, neither had Charles. But it had to be done. They were too busy with their work and so Moira moved into her apartment, and Charles into the Xavier Mansion.

Yet despite their distance and indifferences, they never ran out of love.

Moira turned the faucet in the bathroom on and filled her cupped hands with the warm liquid of water. She smiled small to herself at the remembrance of Charles in the early morning, waking her with his daily shower. She looked up to take a look at her aging self.

And gasped.

More than one person was gazing back at her.

* * *

**11:13 pm**

**Courtyard**

Striking a match, Logan lit another cigar that rested between his lips. The night was young and the tiredness he'd come accustomed to feeling was being pushed away. His mind had a million questions running through, all of which could never be answered thanks to the death of Charles Xavier.

What exactly was 'The Cure'? How long could it damage someone of his kind? Were there more out there? Could he get one? What would happen if he were to actually take 'The Cure'? Would his mutant ability merely disperse the substance from his system and remain mutant forever? Or would he become human, and finally be able to age regularly and not have to watch the friends around him parish? Like Jean.

Jean...

If what ol' Chuck said was true, then what Logan saw was the real Jean Grey. Evil. Pure evil, and manipulative. She wasn't what he thought she was. Had he fallen for the true Jean Grey? Or was he in love with the image Xavier had created of her?

Logan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck while kicking the grass below him. His four months away had left him with the same repeated questions and unknown answers. He wanted more then anything to move on and help Ororo and Hank with the kids. 'Ro was right; they needed him more then ever. He had to push Jean and her death to the back of his mind…

…But he still couldn't let her go.

**A/N: Bit of a cliffhanger with Moira, am I right!**


	5. Hope

**Title: Hope**

**Note I'm sorry my stories haven't been updated as much as I promised. But I am trying!**

**8:39am**

**Staircase**

With his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, Logan strolled down the staircase in the mansion...only to hear the weather witch and Domino entering the enterance hall below him. Quickly, Logan stopped moving.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**8:39am**

**Bottom of staircase.**

Ororo let out a frustrated sigh and stared intensly at Domino. "Didn't I tell you to quit?"

Domino's smile was unbarably sweet. "Moi? Stop? Are you kiddin'?"

"Can't you go bother Hank?"

Domino shook her head. "He's not as fun. And besides, you haven't told me why you're so gloomy."

"I'm not gloomy!" Ororo protested.

Domino raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah." She pointed out the window. "The clouds don't lie."

Ororo looked out the window to see grey clouds over head. "Oh, shut up." She snapped at the younger woman.

Smiling, Domino said, "I will once you tell me what's bothering you."

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty please?"

"NO!"

Domino crossed her arms. "I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you do."

'Ro narrowed her eyes. "If I tell you will you back off?"

Domino nodded.

Storm took in a deep breath and let it all out. "I don't know if I can take the pressure of being the head of the mansion. I don't know if I can be a leader like Charles was. Logan left, and he has no idea how much that hurt...the kids. Hank is continuously working and never gets any sleep. You're out and about at all hours. In fact this is the first time I've seen you in three weeks! These children are looking up to me to protect them and teach them and guide them and all I can think about is that I'm going to ruin everything that Charles and Scott and Jean worked for! There's nothing more frightening to me than disappointing my students!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Domino held up her hands before Ororo went on. "Chill, seriously. 'Ro you're doing great! And Hank is just trying to build back what Xavier built, just like you are." She squeezed her friend's arm. "Would you feel better if I promised to help out?"

"What would you do?"

Domino shrugged. "Whatever you want me too. I'm pretty good at flying the jet. I could do that."

Nodding, Ororo smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." Domino said. As the two started to walk into the living room, she saw the uneasy look on Ororo's face. "Don't worry, I won't leave again. I promise."

From above, Logan watched as the two women entered the living room. "Me either." He said quietly. He hadn't even thought of the pressure 'Ro must of been going through. But after hearing his friend rant and seeing her on the verge of tears, Wolverine promised he wouldn't be leaving...

...Not until things got settled again, at least.


	6. All The Stories But One

**Title: All the Stories But One**

**Note: Wow, I highly apologize to my audience.**

**10:41- Previous/Same night**

**Moira's Apartment**

"Hank McCoy?" Moira whirled around to lay her eyes upon the blue face of her intruder.

He smiled wearily, "Good evening, Moira. I apologize for startling you."

Her nerves calming, Moira managed a faint smile of her own as her eyebrows pulled together. "Hank," She questioned. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Hank cast his eyes on something outside of the bathroom doorway where he stood. "Do you mind if we sit down? I haven't had must rest lately."

"Of course," Moira hurried out of her small bathroom and pulled a chair out for her guest at the round breakfast table in the kitchen. Feeling the need to play the role of a hostess, Moira quickly scooped a few spoonfuls of ground coffee into the circular paper and placed the object into her Mr. Coffee maker before pressing start. As the rough gurgle of brewing coffee played in the background, Moira settled in a chair across from Hank. She waited with her hands folded.

Hank ran a gorilla-like hand over his face before starting. "Moira, I'm sure my appearance comes a bit of a surprise. But, I can assure you that I wouldn't have come without a trulyimportant reason."

Moira knodded.

"Since the unexpected death of Charles, I have spent countless hours trying to rebuild Cerebro. That is, the computer system. Without Charles and his incredible telepathy, we are unable to use our only source of connection of other mutants."

"Have you made any progress?" She hadn't thought anyone but Charles could be capable of Cerebro's power.

Hank knodded smally, "A little. Through computer technology I've been able to tap into files Charles had on every mutant he'd made a connection to or with. The entire of the school's population are recorded in these documents. As well as others only Charles had known about. One file in general struck my attention."

Moira curiously tilted her head slightly, "Who?"

Hank shrugged, "The name on the file is Kayla Fox. Nothing particularly threatening shown in her file."

"I don't understand."

Hank smiled, "Neither do I, Moira, dear. But Charles' notes and comments on her file suggest otherwise. His last entry on her dates almost sixteen years ago."

"So?"

"She was on The Island, do you remember what we had told you of Stryker and his wretched experimentations on mutants?"

Moira knodded, "Yes of course."

"Charles," Hank continued, leaning back in his chair. "Paid very close attention to her. She was close to Stryker through force and blackmail. Her history claims she spent six years in Canada and then suddenly -close to sixteen years ago- her profile filled with more dated notes. He was reading her mind, picking out every detail to hopefully find a hole Stryker hadn't though to close, letting Charles and Eric and chance to rescue those in captivity. But the notes abruptly ended. He wrote only one detail and then left her file alone."

"What was it, Henry?"

His dark eyes met Moira's gray pair with sorrow. "She was pregnant."

Moira gasped. "There were dead bodies on The Island."

"I know."

"Do you think she was one of them?"

Hank took in a deep breath, "I don't know. I think it's possible that Charles found her unimportant after the release and rescue of the captured mutants. But Moira, I do feel as though he would have mentioned something to you or I."

She shook her head, "He never told me."

Hank knodded in thought. "I can't imagine why her pregnancy would matter."

"If she's dead then surely the baby would have died as well. No fetus could survive after the mothers heart stopped beating."

"Yes," Hank agreed. "Charles made a file on another: FOX. I'm not certain if they are connected, there's no way to tell. If only I could figure out how to manually have Cerebro running. I'm so close, I can feel it."

Moira smiled sympathetically, reaching across to supportingly rest her hand upon his knee. "Hank, you've worked so terribly hard. You really should stop being so hard on yourself. You are a brilliant man and if anyone could reconnect Cerebro, you could."

He matched her smile. "Thank you. Moira, you know how much Charles loved you?"

She kept her smile, though bit her bottom lip. "Yes. I know. I admired him for his dedication. I just...feel foolish."

Hank looked questioningly at her, "Foolish?"

Moira removed her hand from his knee, and cast her eyes down in embarrassment. "It's silly of me, really, but...I uhm, imagined his voice."

"What?"

"It was the day after the funeral, I-I'd returned to work immediately." She smiled sheepishly. "I needed a distraction. And I suppose it was my subconscious remembering the way he used to say my name, but I certainly heard 'Moira'. It was quite distinct."

Hank stared at her. "Your subconscious..." He pondered this as Moira knodded. "Moira, do you mind coming to the mansion with me?"

**Note: Well, I am back! Please review!**


	7. Capturing Moods

**Title: Capturing Moods**

**Date: Tuesday, first week of class**

**11:36 am**

**Xavier's School for the Gifted - Kitchen**

"Hey!" Jubilee whirled to find Peter standing behind her, now guzzling the last Dr. Pepper she's reached for from the cupboard.

Peter smacked his lips, crushing the can between his grip. "Ahhhh."

"Are you serious?" Jubilee's mouth dropped. "What is your problem?"

Chuckling, Peter turned from her and left the kitchen. Staring at his retreating form, Jubilee ignored the snickers that came from the circular breakfast table where Bobby and Ray sat. "Ugh!" She groaned, and stomped out of the kitchen.

"Man," Ray said, "They're like a sitcom."

Bobby knodded, as he was about to add to Ray's statement, his own mouth dropped open. At one doorway stood his girlfriend, Rogue, they'd been dating for nearly a year now. At the back doorway, leading to the backyard, stood Kitty, which whom Bobby had not so secretively developed an innocent crush on. Not so secretively meaning that Rogue definitely knew about it. The two girls stared at each other, glaring. Ray, finding true enjoyment in the dramatic triangle, gleefully whistled the old this-town-ain't-big-enough-for-the-two-of-us tune and followed with, "Wah, wah, waaaaaah."

The girls kept their eyes locked on each other. Finally, Rogue spoke, "Bobby? Would you mind helpin' me with somethin'?"

"Uhm," Bobby cleared his throat. "S-sure, Rogue. What do you need?"

"I need a partner for the chem'stry lab, sugah."

Kitty cracked a smug smile, "Oh, Rogue, heh. That's too bad. Bobby already agreed to be my partner."

"What?" Rogue broke her eye contact to look at her boyfriend.

Shrinking back a bit, Bobby gulped. "Well, I mean, you didn't ask and Kitty did and I just thought-"

"That what?!" She glared at him. "Thought I wouldn't be as good a partner as her?" She turned quickly on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen, much like Jubilee just had.

"Man," Ray chuckled, "This room has bad ju-ju."

Bobby threw him a glare, "Shut up. Rogue!" He followed her.

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**11:38 am**

**Xavier's School for the Gifted - Front Door**

"It's so good to see you, Moira." Ororo hugged the guest before her. "I'm glad you're here."

Moira smiled in return, "Thank you, Ororo. Hank didn't have to do much convincing, I've always loved the mansion."

Hank guided the ladies through the door, carrying Moira's things. "We'll have to get you settled in first. Find you a room and -"

"Nonsense," Moira waved off his kindness as if it were merely a fly. "I've come here to be put to work and I expect nothing less of that."

"Now Moira," Hank protested.

"Henry," she smiled. "I have done nothing more than feel sorry for myself since Charles' death. It's high time I do something useful with myself. I insist."

Hank's blue furred face shined with admiration for the woman before him. "In that case, let me show you to the lab."

She flashed her white teeth in a grin. "That's more like it."

Ororo chuckled as the pair excitedly exited towards the elevator that would take them downstairs to the lab.

"What're you laughin' about?" His gruff voice made Ororo's nerves jump. She looked left and saw Logan, hand's shoved in his pockets, coming in from the hall.

Instantly, Ororo's defense went up. "You're still here."

He narrowed his eyes in his own denfense. "Keep that up and it won't be for long."

She straightened her back, pulling herself to her full height. _Keep calm_, she reminded herself. "I just thought you'd decide to leave again. I, uhm, know it's not easy being here...without Jean."

A pang of pain shot through Logan's nerves. She'd hit the nail on the head. Life without the red-headed beauty was not as easy as he'd hoped. "Yeah...well..." He tried to be nonchalant. Ororo looked curiously at him,waiting for a solid answer. "'Ro, c'mon. Cut me some slack."

She sighed, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, his mind resurfacing memories of Jean he'd tried to burry for four months. "Look, 'Ro, I'm here, alright? I'm stayin' and I won't leave."

Her nerves jolted again. She nodded, "Alright..get to work then." She turned to leave.

"On what?" He called after her.

"The jet's engine is broken," She called over her shoulder. "You can start on that."

He watched her go and chuckled.

**Note: The more reviews I get the more I'll post!**


	8. Have a Heart

*****Note: I'm going to start writing characters that have accents (i.e. Rogue, Logan, Pyro, Gambit, etc..) with their accents. It's not easy!*****

**Title: Have a Heart**

**Date: Tuesday, second day of class**

**11:40 AM**

**Xavier's School for Gifted Youngster's - Staircase**

"Rogue," Bobby reached out and grasped her wrist, an action that would have nearly killed him just four short months ago. "Come on, let's talk."

"There ain't nothin' to talk about, Bobby." Her voice was cold and quip, not a tone she'd used until recently.

He frowned and dropped her hand. "Would you like to explain to me the sudden jealousy over Kitty? She's just a friend, Rogue."

"Oh," Rogue chuckled darkly. "Yeah, and Ah'm jus' from the south." She rolled her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means there's somethin' more to it than yer tellin' meh!" Her voice broke on the last words. Rogue took in a breath of air and cleared her throat. _Ah'm not gonna cry, Ah'm not gonna cry_, she repeated in her thoughts.

A look of slight shock displayed Bobby's face, he quickly rid of it by briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. "No, Rogue. You're wrong. Look, Kitty's going through some stuff. She's taking Xavier's death really hard, I-"

"Weh _all_ are takin' his death hard, Bobby!" Rogue snapped. "Kitty ain't goin' through anythin' the rest of us aren't."

Frustrated, Bobby stared at his girlfriend, letting out a strained breath. "I'm not fighting with you over this."

"Ah nevuh asked you to."

"Rogue," Bobby groaned, he ran a hand over his face. "What do you want me to do? I'll do anything."

Her eyes narrowed. "This ain't about doin'," She snarled. "This is about bein'."

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to _do_ anythin' to prove you're mah boyfrien'," She explained. "It should nevuh have came to that."

Bobby came closer to her, placing his hands on either side of her hips and looked into her hazel eyes. "You know how I feel about you."

Rogue stared back. "Do Ah?" She challenged.

They stared at each other, the tension of an even larger fight threatening. Bobby searched for some clue written on Rogue's face. Some secret reasoning behind her insecurity of his loyalty to her. _She_ was his girlfriend, not Kitty. And Bobby would never cheat, it wasn't in his nature.

"Look," Rogue finally broke the silence between them. "Ah have alot of homework, and Ah gotta fin' a chem'stry partnuh. You think abou' all this and get back to meh." She turned and walked up the steps towards her room.

Bobby, turned back into the kitchen, scratching his head. "Has anybody seen Kitty?'

* * *

**12:03 PM **

**Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters - Jet Garage**

"_Sonuvabitch_," Logan growled, forming the phrase into one word. He stared at the steaming engine before him wondered how in the hell Domino had managed this. The jet in itself was banged up and the engine was shot to hell. For whatever reason Ororo had agreed to let Domino fly, Logan hoped she knew what she was doing.

He set to work, pulling out pieces that were too destroyed to be fixed. It wasn't long before he found himself covered in grease and sweating. Domino was _never_ coming near this thing _ever_ again. And she owed him a beer. Although the work was a tad on the annoying side, Logan felt a little pleased with himself. At least he was doing something to help out around here. And at least 'Ro wasn't making him teach anything. He smiled a little at Storm's lack of hesitation to order him around.

_No beatin' 'round the bush with that one,_ he thought. Then chuckled to himself, "Literally."

Logan leaned out of the engine and wiped his sweating forehead, streaking grease acrossed it. Walking to the workshop table and bench, he grabbed his beer and took a long swig.

_"When yah gonna let her go, huh?"_

Leave it to his subconscious to bring Jean into his thoughts of Ororo. He growled a little, trying to push down the memory. 'Ro had shoved him back, trying to get him to realize what he was about to do.

_"I can't!"_ He'd growled and grabbed her. She wasn't shaken or scared, she didn't beg him to let her go in his too-tight grip.

_"Cuz you love her."_ It was a statement. A statement in an angry voice.

Logan shook his head, making his bitter memory fade. But the pissed off look on Ororo's face lingered. Guilt started to build around his heart as he thought more and more of how right 'Ro was. He'd betrayed them, in a sense, by running out. He'd even..

_"You'd die for them?"_

_"Not for them,"_He'd answered. _"For you...for **you**. I love you."_

He frowned at himself, _An' then yah stab her in the gut._

Logan downed the rest of his beer and turned back to the jet. The more he worked, the less he thought of Jean.


	9. Breathe

**Title: Breathe**

**Date: Friday, first week of class**

**7:57 PM**

**Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters - Lab**

"Well," Hank sighed and smiled feebly at Moira. "At least we know you know you don't have brain cancer."

Moira groaned, running a hand through her brown and gray hair. For the duration of her time at the mansion she had been cat-scanned at least once a day upon her own request. She was determined she and Hank would find a jump on the trackings of her brain waves, proving she was only hearing voices out of nervousness triggering her self conscious. But, oh no, low and behold her ever trusting science had failed her. She snatched the lastest reports on her brain and body and tiredly traced the material with her eyes. "I see why you're so weary."

Hank chuckled, "It's all in a days work, my dear."

Aggrivated that she wasn't crazy, like she slightly hoped she was - at least it would explain Charles' voice running through her head!- Moira turned back to the computer she'd been staring at. Kayla Fox's profile was on the screen, Moira had been analyzing every possible detail her ex-husband had made on the young woman. Why was she so important? And why did Charles suddenly end his comments about her?

"She was pretty."

Hank looked up from the charts he observed, "Mmm. Yes."

"Around...twenty-five or so, would you say?"

"There should be a note of her age towards the top."

Moira scrolled and found it, "Ah. Yes, thank you." She quickly scanned the basic information, her brows pulling together in concentration. "Canadian. School teacher. Pregnant- but we already knew that."

"Canadian?"

Moira knodded, "Well, I'm not entirely sure. Though she did reside there for six years. That's when he started her profile."

"Hmmm..."

Moira turned in her chair to face Hank again, "What are you thinking?"

He didn't meet her gaze, but instead got up and went to the cork board tacked with notes.

"Hank?"

Beast turned to face her, "I think we need start on Cerebro again."

"Oh Hank," Moira sighed. "We've_ tried_. We need someone with telepathic abilities. Cerebro won't work with just a computer system."

"Yes," Hank knodded. "I know. Moira, I'm going to send a letter to the few telepathic mutants still willing to work with us. Perhaps someone will respond."

She looked skeptical. "But no one has the strength that Charles had to run Cerebro."

"No," He agreed. "But, with you and I at the data base, perhaps we can help our volunteer and make the experience easier." When she said nothing, he added, "We have to try, Moira."

"I want to know more about profile: FOX," She stated. "No one knows why it's so confidential?"

Hank shook his head, "Absolutely no one. Charles put a password block on it."

Moira smirked, "I bet I could figure it out."

"By all means," Hank offered.

She turned and furiously tried everything that associated with Charles to open profile: FOX. After five attempts with words such as _mutants, mutant rights, mutant equality, x-men_, Moira sighed. Hank stood behind her, pondering. "May I?" He reached around her and typed in _Moira_. The file unlocked.

Hank and Moira stared at the file displayed on the screen.

"**_Oh_**," she whispered. "_**My. God**_..."

* * *

**8:30 PM **

**Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters - Kitchen**

"Seriously?" Domino frowned.

Logan, arms crossed, knodded. "Thirty pack, no cheap shit."

"You are takin' a big chunk outta my wallet, Claws!"

He smiled, amused. "An' you took a bug chunk outta my time, Spot."

Domino glared, "It's bad enough you won't let me fly the jet anymore. Now I have to buy you beer?"

"Yup." He walked to the sink and started to wash the grease off his hands. "You know where 'Ro is? Gotta see what other shit she needs done 'round her."

Domino, searching her wallet to see if she even had cash on her for her beer run, muttered. "She's been in her room all night."

"Doin' what?" Logan glanced at the chalky white woman.

She shrugged, "Beats me. Probably paper work."

_Phew_, Logan thought. Paper work was safe. That meant she wouldn't give him anymore guilt or distrusting faces. Paper work was sanctuary.

He left Domino in the kitchen after he dried his towels. Ororo's room was the very last in the right hall on the second floor. He'd never been in her room, never even known which one it was until after Charles' death. Storm had retreated to her private quarters after giving a speech at the funeral. Logan had smelled her enter the mansion before anyone else. He would have at least given her a "nice job" but she'd entered and shut the door before he was able to get a word out that day.

Logan gazed out the window as he passed it on his turn towards the staircase. Fat, slow drops of rain slopped down upon the ground and panes of the window. _Uh oh_, he was pretty sure it was supossed to be clear skies today...

Quickening his pace, Logan reached the top of the stairs and rounded to the right for Storm's room. He took a breath and gently knocked on her door, "'Ro...?"

Like a flash, Ororo had pushed herself into Logan's arms. She held him around the neck, sobbing desperately into his shoulder. By judge of the weather, he'd expected her to be crying. Though this was not the reaction he'd expected to recieve. Instinctively, Logan pulled his arms around Ororo's slim body. Had she always been this small? With each choke of breath that followed with more sobs, Logan hugged her tighter as they stood in the doorway.

"Shhhh, 'Ro," he whispered tenderly. "I'm right here, darlin'." Whatever was bothering her, Logan felt a strong new emotion towards his friend. Protection. At this moment, with Ororo clinging to him for support, he wanted nothing more then to take away the pain she was feeling. "Shhhh, it's alright. Shhh..." He pressed his lips closer to her ear, into her hair. His enhanced smelling picked up a faint coconut scent - shampoo, probably.

"Tighter," Ororo mumbled.

Logan chuckled a little and squeezed a little harder. "Tell me what' wrong, 'Ro."

She was very quiet, her sobs increasing again. "K-K-Kurt."

"Shhh, what about Kurt?" He gently pulled away from her, reaching up to dislodge her grip behind his neck. Logan gently held her finger tips, palms down.

Ororo wouldn't meet his eyes, she stared at the floor, tears dropping down.

"'Ro..."

She took a hand out from his light grip and pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket. It was folded, multiple times over. His eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Logan looked at Storm as he took the paper from her. He opened it, letting go of her other hand.

"Holy shit," He whispered, fear and outrage in his voice. He held a piece of computer paper with a photo of Kurt Wagner printed on it. Kurt was...absolutely mutilated. His body parts had been chopped from the torso, his eyes gauged out, there were multiple holes in his chest. It was disgusting. Absolutely disturbing. Kurt died with terror on his face.

"He was...he was," Ororo continued to cry.

"Where, 'Ro?" Logan pressed. "Where'd Kurt go?"

"Germany," she said. "He went back to Germany, hoping to return to his village. We-we sent emails to each other. He-he was flying back next week to visit..." Her tears thickened. "R-read the rest."

So caught up with the sight of Ororo crying and Kurt dead, Logan hadn't realized the bottom message of the paper: _Close down or we'll spill children's blood_.

"Sonuvabitch," Logan's growl built deeper and deeper within himself. "Who did this to him?"

Ororo shook her head, "I don't know. It came from his email address." She hestitated, "Logan?"

He met her chocolate brown eyes.

"Logan," she whispered. "Don't leave again. Please. I'm begging you," she started to cry into hysterics again.

Logan's heart wrenched. She really didn't trust him still? She honestly was afraid of him ditching out on her and Hank and all the kids. His face fell, "'Ro..." he reached out and gently pulled her close again. "I ain't goin' anywhere. It'll be alright, darlin'. I'll protect yah."

She closed her eyes. "Protect the children."

Logan smiled, "I can handle both."


	10. The Minstrel's Prayer

**Title: The Minister's Prayer**

**Date: Saturday leading into Sunday, begining of second week of class**

**Time: Midnight (So, officially Sunday)**

**Xavier's School for Gifted Youngster's - Tombstone's**

Ororo was the master of keeping a straight face. After her breakdown in Logan's arms, she'd quickly apologized and wiped her eyes. Saturday, she dedicated to making arrangements for the funeral and held a meeting with the other X-men and Moira. Logan wasn't present as she told the others of Kurt's death and the threat on the school. Logan, Ororo noticed, had left the minute she parted from him, and hadn't been seen since.

As she calmly watched students silently find their seat, her inner self screamed. Kurt had touched her on such an innocent level. He saw the world through eyes that searched for the goodness in people.

_"How can someone so beautiful have so much anger?"_ He'd asked her. He challenged her reasons, something no one else had done.

If Ororo could see the world through Kurt's eyes, perhaps she wouldn't be rough around the edges. She didn't truly try to be distrusting, but life had taken away her other choices. Orphaned, struggling, betrayed, Ororo had decided a long time ago that there was no grey area. There was only black or white. She hadn't been merciful when Jean last lived either. She hadn't hoped that perhaps her old teammate and friend was somewhere inside of the Pheonix. Logan had hoped. Logan, who had seen and been through far worse things then anyone else Ororo had ever known, had hoped. Logan...who was in love with Jean...had hoped.

Out of respect for Kurt, Ororo held the ceremony during the velvet dark sky of night. Students held candles to light the graveyard, mixing tranquility with sorrow. Since Kurt was a religious man, a stone cross stood just below the engravement of his name on the tombstone. A scatter of tea-lights circled the base of the piece, illuminating the symbolism. _Wherever you are_, Ororo silently said. _I hope you're safe._

She took in an uneasy breath, too many had died in such a short time. Who would be next? Who would be viciously murdered and ripped apart limb from limb? Her eyes clouded with tears as she glanced from young face to young face. What if they'd lost one of them? What if Rahne was next, for being able to morph into a wolf? Or Angel, for his glorious wings?

The clouds started to to darken above, and Ororo rechecked her emotions. She was not going to allow rain on Kurt's funeral day.

"Everyone," her voice was surprisingly strong. The crowd looked up at her, some eyes full of tears, some full of fear. Ororo searched the crowd, the X-men sitting in the front. Rogue was crying softly as Bobby stroked her hand with his. Moira and Hank sat together, tired looking but sad just as the rest. Peter sat on the other side of Rogue, Kitty on the other side of him. Neither had known Kurt like she or Rogue and Bobby had, though to all he was a hero.

"I was fortunate enough to have Kurt Wagner as a friend and teammate." She tried her best to meet the eyes of each person in her audience. She had to let these children know that she was here for them, she was their shoulder to cry on. She could see Jubilee and Amara on either side of Ray. He had an arm around both girls, allowing them to sob into his chest. His own face was strained and serious - tightly trying to stay strong.

A lump built in Ororo's throat as she took in each of her students' reactions to Kurt's death. Some looked afraid whereas others were full of sadness. Only her X-men remained still, as if they were mentally visioning their own graves and preparing for it. She choked back tears, _It should never have come to this._

She wasn't Charles. He was able to protect them all. He'd died to protect them all. She was...

"So was Ah."

Ororo snapped her head up, looking a Rogue. The young girl met her teammate's gaze as a tear rolled down her pale cheek. Ororo smiled smally, encouraging Rogue to go on.

"He saved mah life,"she didn't wipe her face as more tears fell.

"Yes," Ororo agreed softly. "Kurt was a believer of doing the right thing. He was a hero with beautiful morals, and high relationships with God. He -"

"He was my friend too," Bobby stood up, pulling Rogue with him. They held their candles in front of themselves, the light making their pained faces visible . "He was a part of this team, he helped shaped it. Shape _us_. Kurt was living proof that there was such a thing as hope."

Ororo's eyes rimmed with proud tears, "Yes."

"He was brave," Amara stood.

"Yes."

"He was sensitive," Tabitha stood.

"He helped us with our homework," Paige stood.

"Yes."

"He taught us it was okay to look different," Jubilee stood.

Ray, after Jubilee, "He gave us hope."

"Yes," Ororo repeated.

""He was an X-Man." Heads turned to the very back of the crowd where the voice had came from. Logan stood with his arms crossed in front of his muscled chest. He met and held Ororo's gaze, tilting his chin up slightly.

She kept her eyes on him. This was twice now, that she had come to find Logan to be her source of comfort and support. She knodded and whispered, "Yes."

At that, every chair that had been occupied found itself vacant as those who'd came to mourn stood. The shine of candles glowed gorgeously on the children, making each and everyone of them angelic. They watched as Ororo stepped from her appointed spot and stopped at Kurt's grave. She removed her eyes from Logan and found her audience again. "He was an X-Man. He was sensitive and a source of hope. He held a strong belief with God, and he never stopped loving." Tears rimmed her eyes. "And he loved each of you. All of you. For different reasons."

She received whimpers and sniffles of crying.

"Kurt Wagner believed in the youth. He believed in this school and in Charles Xavier's dream," Her voice was growing stronger. "If he hadn't met you before, he still believed in you. He still believed in your cause and what you stand up for every day of your lives. His death was unexpected and many of us will never get the chance to meet Kurt...never see...him smile..."

"Oh," Moira dabbed at her eyes.

"We don't have his body with us, but we have his spirit with us always," Ororo shakily reached a hand out and touched the top of the tombstone, her eyes on the cross. "We have his love."

Was it Jubilee who had started humming _Amazing Grace_? Or Kitty? Amara? It mattered not. The song was soft, just a breeze in the still air. Slowly the volume increased as more students joined in until the entire school, the X-Men team included, were humming the gospel tune. Logan, stood quietly in the back, his lips slightly parted in amazement. These kids had everything and every right to fear what could happen to them next. And yet, here they were...producing strength.

He glanced to Ororo. Her face displayed what he felt: Pride.

**Note: This chapter was difficult for me to write. I couldn't until I stumbled upon "The Minstrel's Prayer" by Cartel on my ipod. I reccomend listening to it, it fits nicely with the mood I wanted for the chapter.**


	11. A Secret

**Title: A Secret**

**Date: Wednesday, two weeks after funeral/third week of class**

**Time: 6:00 AM**

**Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters - Kitchen**

For whatever reason, Hank McCoy had awaken earlier than his alarm. He'd stumbled to the shower, his thoughts rumbling with each other as he cleansed himself, then ventured to the kitchen for coffee.

Charles had been mysterious, that was certain. The man had kept more secrets from him and the others than Hank had thought. He'd kept an entire mutant hidden away in his computer's database. He'd kept a very, VERY large piece of a complicated puzzle to himself.

"Moira?" He was surprised to find another being up at this ungodly hour. "What are you doing up? Is everything alright?"

Her eyes held bags beneath them. The smile she gave him reflected exhaustion. "Hello. I'm fine, thank you. I couldn't sleep."

"Yes," Beast knodded. "Neither had I." He helped himself to the coffee Moira had made and sat across from her at the breakfast table. They didn't speak. An eelephant of tension and worry filled the room as Hank and Moira avoided each others eyes. They both had had only one thing on their minds. And the one thing was now printed and lying on the table between them.

Profile: FOX.

"Hank, we have to tell him," Moira broke the silence. "He has a right to know."

Hank shook his head. "I'm not sure if he _should_ know."

"Hank!" Moira gasped. "We're talking about a man's child!"

Hank held up a hand in defense, "Yes. But, Moira, do remember who that man is. I'm not completely certain on how he would react. He could very well take the news very harshly. He is rather sensitive at times."

Moira sighed, "I just feel so rotten over this. What Charles has kept from all of for so long could possibly ruin a life."

"We'll wait, my dear. We have no choice. When the time is right, we can tell Lo-"

**_Vvvvvvvvrrrrrrroooooooom._** A few minutes after the noise, Wolverine swaggered into the kitchen. Dried blood and dirt covered his face, though thanks to his quick healing abilities, no injuries were visible.

"Logan?" Moira stood to get him a towel. She held it under running water ihen the sink and rung the washcloth out before handing it to him. "Are you just getting in, dear?"

He cleared his throat and looked at her with a punch-drunk sloppy knod. "Uh, yeah."

"It's six o'clock in the morning..." Hank added, watching with curious eyes from the table.

"Yeah, I," -cleared his throat one more time- "know. I was...busy."

Moira narrowed her eyes, "What kind of 'busy'?"

Logan felt a little uneasy with Moira darting accusingly curious glares directly at him. This woman, he swiftly realized, would know instantly if he dared to lie to her. Much like Charles, she was able to read him well. "Well," Logan tossed the now dirty rag in the sink and opened the refridgerator behind him. Pulling out a beer, he leaned against the counter.

Moira snatched the alcohol from the grown man, "Wait until noon at least, Logan."

He let out an I'm-annoyed-but-I-respect-you breath. "I was busy at a bar."

Moira frowned, "And now you feel that you need _another_ beer for breakfast?"

"Look," he went back to the fridge, pulling out another beer. "I deserve one of these."

Moira crossed her arms, "And why is that?"

He grinned, "Cuz I found out who sent the threat to 'Ro."

Hank stood instantly, "Really? Logan, that is fantastic!" He was truly thrilled.

His brows pulling together, Logan stared at the blue, burly man across from him. "I'd say lucky. Took a coupla beatin's 'for I could even get a name outta anybody."

"Who was it?" Moira pressed. "Magneto?"

Logan shook his head, "Nah. Furball got Metalhead with 'The Cure'. He doesn't have any authority anymore." He took a long drink from his beverage. "Some pyscho named Lawrence."

Hank frowned, "That doesn't give us much to work with."

Logan shrugged, "It's a start." He brought the bottle to his lips again when something caught his eye. "What's that?" He pointed to the table.

Alarm shot through both Moira and Hank. They glanced at each other before looking to Logan, who's suspicion now grew. Casually - or at least pretending to be casual - Hank grabbed the file, making sure the title faced away from Logan. "Blue prints and plans for Cerebro," He answered. "Moira and I were just discussing them before you came."

Logan narrowed his eyes, but rather than questioning the pair, took another long drink from his beer. "Thought Cerebro was fixed," he said cooly. Two can play at this game.

Hank shrugged, keeping the printings firmly in his grasp. "A few upgrades couldn't hurt."

"Huh," Logan finished his beer and set it down on the counter. He started to leave, "Never thought you to be a liar, Fuzzy."

Moira bit her bottom lip as Logan left. "Hank..."

"No, Moira," He answered sternly, clearly hurt by the accusation. "We can't. More than ever. We just _can't_."

*****Note: Another difficult chapter. I apologize for the shortness. But I kid you not, great, full chapters are coming**


	12. Stay Down

**Title: Stay Down**

**Time: 8:00 AM**

**Place: Ororo Munroe's office.**

***Note* Using Obama as a Senator for this chapter...he'll be president in later chapters...count this as my disclaimer!**

* * *

"It ain't safe, 'Ro!" Logan slammed his fist down on the oak desk. He felt as though physical assertion could possibly sway the Snow Plow. He was wrong.

Ororo glared at him, "I will be perfectly fine, thank you."

Logan began pacing the room, one hand on his hip while the other stroked his chin, ran through his hair, balled into a fist and slammed against the wall. It was as if he were stuck between a rock and a hard spot. "Why can't Hank go? Send the big ol' furball. He won't have any trouble."

She sighed, "Hank is not the principal of this school nor the president of the Mutant-Human Coexistance Move. It has to be me."

He stared at her, shaking his head. "No. D.C. is a stupid place for a mutant to go. That's like walkin' in the line of fire!"

Also standing, yet not in a nervous I'm-losing-this-argument-but-still-fishing-for-some-thread-of-hope kind of way. "Logan, I -"

"This!" He practically shoved the emailed picture of Kurt Wagner's destroyed body in Storm's face. She didn't flinch. "This is exactly what you'll get. You'll walk right into it, 'Ro. Right into a trap, just like they want." His eyes were fierce with threat, as if he would do everything he could to stand in her way.

He was very close to her face. Too close for comfort. And so, with a bit of annoyed rage, Ororo electrified her friend into the wall he previously put a hole through. His angry growl yelped and then "Oofed" at the striking pain as he slid to the floor.

"Logan," she said with a strained voice. "I am going to be very nice to right now and if you say one word I will electricute you until that hairy chest of yours singes off. Understand?"

He growled.

"Good," she didn't keep her eyes off of him as she returned to her desk and pulled an envelope from a drawer. "This invitation is a peace offering. Senator Obama understands us and wants me to make a public announcement declaring our wish for coexistance. He feels we deserve a chance to speak. Logan, this could be the one thing I can do right for these children. This could be their way out of living in fear. Logan, not all of us want to run forever." She tossed the letter onto his lap.

Glaring at her, he unfolded the paper and read.

_Dear Miss Ororo Munroe,_

"You ever been married, 'Ro?"

She blinked, not expecting his forward question. "No."

He did.

_I am writing to you in hopes of peace. I believe it is time the world was shown that the homo-sapien race is not alone._

"Never?"

"No. Never. Keep reading."

Scanning to the last paragraph, Logan read. _I hope you consider my invitation. The Conference is to be held in Washington D.C. at the U.S. Capitol..._ He stopped reading at the provided itinerary of the press conference.

"So you're going." No need to question.

Ororo knodded, "Yes. I'm going."

"Alone?"

"I was asked to come alone."

Logan stood up, quickly scanning the letter again. He slowly walked to Ororo and held out for her to take. "Then you're as good as dead." And left the room.

* * *

**6:00 PM**

**Garage.**

"Just like that, huh?" Domino handed Warren a beer and leaned against the front of her car.

Warren knodded. "Yeah, just like that. He handed me the keys to the jet and said 'Have at it, Wings.' Then he took off on his bike."

Domino whistled. "Sheesh. Wonder what happened." She took a swig of her Coors - er - Logan's Coors, to be precise. "So...you have the keys to the jet, huh?"

Angel looked at her, "Uh....yeah?" In a flash, he was yanked up -without spilling his beer, thank you!- and drug towards the (hopefully) fixed X-men fighter jet.

* * *

***Note* I'm so sorry it's short. College takes up a lot of time!**


	13. Overkill

**Chapter Twelve: Overkill**

**Place: New Orleans, Louisiana **

**Time: Midnight, two weeks later**

**NOTE* Kai is my own original character. And there are alterations to Remy LeBeau. But do not fear, everything will be explained when the timing is right. The characters develop on their own. **

Tassles and jewelry swished, swayed, and clanked as the olive skinned brunette fiercely marched across the street. Her long, flowing skirt was just thin enough to let the cool breeze of night give her some relief the the blazing southern heat of day. She kept her eyes straight ahead, trying her best to time her arrival home perfectly. If, in fact, she made it home in a timed manner she wouldn't get scolded. Not that the scoldings she received were ever horribly harsh. She just hated making him worry. She was sixteen and there wasn't too much he could do to keep her from going to a party or taking the night shift at the roadhouse she worked at. He knew this, she knew this. He wasn't her father.

She didn't have parents.

Since the day she was born Kai had no memory of ever having a mother or a father. To be quite honest, she didn't even know her own name. It was quite frightening at times. What if her biological parents had something like AIDS and she would never had known? She got checked once after freaking herself out so badly over the possibility. Thank God she came out clean. But what if they were deliciously rich and could easily drop a hundred grand on their long lost daughter?

Doubtful. Very doubtful.

Kai had always been alone. And for that, she was constantly growing wiser. And with this wisdom she picked up the speed of her walking pace to get back home in time. Curfew, what a terrible idea.

Something clanked in an alley two paces ahead of her to the left. She froze. God damn it. New Orleans was a constant party, which meant it was a constant battle to stay rape free from drunken ass holes. Her hands instantly balled into fists. There was a reason why she wore at least one ring on every finger.

"Cheri, yo' late." The deep Cajun voice from the alley soon became a large, handsome man stepping out of the shadows of the alley. "Yo' make-uh meh worry."

Kai dropped her defense mechanism and let out a sigh. "I told you I was going after work."

"Iz late," he shook his head. "Yo' sixteen. 'Ow many time do Remy have to come track yo' down, petite?"

She cracked a little smile at her nickname. "I'm sorry." She slipped her hand into his gloved one. "Lets just go home. I have tomorrow off. We can go fishing."

Remy squeezed her hand and gave a little nod. "Yo' not go out fo' a week, petite."

Kai's mouth dropped. "Seriously? You're gonna try to play the dad card on me?"

He shrugged, "Some'un have to."

Ouch. She glared at the road ahead of them, "You've never been this protective before. You've never given me a curfew before."

"Dere not beh mutie hunters till now."

A week ago Senator Barack Obama had arranged for a public warning for mutant safety as well as a speech given by Ororo Monroe, the new head mistress of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, explaining that mutants are peace-seeking humans. She expressed the fear mutants have.

"They were so stupid to make it public," Kai muttered, still glaring.

Remy glanced down at her. "Oh?"

"It's not hard to hide from people. It's not hard to keep to yourself, therefore no one bothers you and you can live a remotely normal life."

He stopped walking and faced her, his red and black eyes gently looking into hers. "Remy will nevuh have a normal life."

Kai half smiled, but said nothing. In all complete honesty, she was Remy's escape from his real day-to-day life. He was used as a pawn to his stepfather's Cajun gang of Thieves. He killed people.

"Remember when we found each other?" She smiled, changing the subject to a favorite.

He chuckled, "Mo' like Remy foun'_ 'oo._"

_Kai came to New Orleans when she was fourteen years old and on the run from her eighth foster home. She'd dumpster dived for most her meals. Disgusting, but when you're beyond the point of hunger and more poor than a third world country, you don't complain. This was how Remy had stumbled upon her. He was disposing of a body he'd just murdered for his father...and didn't look in the dumpster when he tossed Alan Jackson's cold, stiff, and dripping with blood body inside._

_"What the hell?!" Kai had yelled, then started screeching and tearing her way to the top of the garbage pile. Instantly she started puking and freaking out as soon as she toppled out of her dinner spot._

_Normally, Remy would have been lost in the shadows and never known to be anywhere near this certain alley. But Kai was small, sickly small. Even he, who was dirt poor and someone else's henchman, wouldn't eat out of a dumpster. " 'Ello?"_

_Kai's eyes flared at the instant sight of such a large, beautiful man. Wait, not man, murderer. "Oh God, please don't kill me." She whispered._

_Remy cracked a smile. "Non, petite. Remy not kill 'oo. Why don' weh sit an' talk?"_

_She shook her head._

_"Petite, Remy not gon' hurt 'oo." _

_She looked him square in the eyes. "You can't hurt me." _

_He raised his eyebrows. "Zat so?"_

_Kai nodded and slowly stood from her kneeling and walked towards him. "Give me your hand."_

_Curious as he was, Remy held his palm up. His fingers stuck out of his gloved hands. _

_Slowly, Kai pulled a pocket knife from her jeans pocket and sliced his thumb deeply. _

_Remy gritted his teeth and glared but didn't make a sound. He watched in amazement as the teenager calmly placed her left hand over his bleeding thumb. A strange sensation came over him as the pain slipped away from his thumb. He felt...full of life! As if everything was his for the taking. He could fly if he kept this high any longer. But then, suddenly it vanished. He looked at the girl. She was smiling. He looked at her hand...it was slashed at the thumb and dripping with blood. _

_"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph..." Remy muttered as he watched the injured thumb of Kai's quickly dissolve into nothing as she healed. _

Returning to the present, Kai tugged on Remy's sleeve. "Come on, let's go home. I have jambalaya in the cooler."

He grinned at his petite and took her hand again as they walked home together.


	14. Don't Let Me Down

**Chapter Thirteen: Don't Let Me Down **

**Place: New Orleans, Louisiana **

**Time: 1:00 AM (same evening as ch. 12)**

The problem with the deep South, such as Louisiana, is that the air is filled with moisture. The mugginess of humidity can never be escaped and reaches its worse during the hottest time of the day. Yet, possibly the worst condition involving humidity occurs when bedsheets stick to a sweating, over-heated body trying to sleep. Discomfort levels reach sky rocketing limits and finally, falling asleep is completely out of the question.

Kai was having this sort of night. Her thick, wild and unruly hair stuck to the back of her neck, her forehead, anywhere where sweat could be found. Her tank top and shorts clung tightly to her teenage frame, horribly keeping her produced body heat trapped. She groaned and rolled to her side, kicking blankets off of her torso.

"This is ridiculous..." she mumbled. She sat up and sighed, wiping perspiration from her face. The house was silent, except for Remy's slight snoring on the couch. He hadn't slept in his own bed since Kai moved in, refusing to let her have anything less than the better of the two sleeping arrangements. He murdered for money, but he was chivalric.

He amazed her. He was the closest she had to a father. Though he acted more like a respected, older partner, as if they were a team. Or he a guide for her young, mutant life.

She stretched her arms over her head and yawned, cracked her neck from side to side, and rose from the bed. Water was in need. Retrieving a glass from a cupboard, she turned to the kitchen sink. She closed her eyes, took a long slp from her cup, and set it down before glancing at the window above the sink.

Fear rose through her as she started to shriek, only to feel a large hand covering her mouth with a cloth. She inhaled, trying to take in air, but instead filled her lungs and head with toxicities mixed to knock her out cold and drag her helpless body away from the safety of her home.

All as the famous Ragin' Cajun slept soundly, never noticing a single sound.

* * *

**Time: 5:00 AM - Two days later  
**

**Place: Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters**

He'd waited up all night for Ororo to finally come home from Washington D.C. She should be arriving any minute. Any minute and she'll walk through the front door, careless, tired, relieved to be home. She'll act as if nothing had happened, as if she merely took a weekend trip for herself. To recooperate, she'd say to her students. She needn't them to worry as well.

She'll probably take a shower...probably head to her office to start her work day early. She doesn't have a care in the world. But on her desk, which remained untouched until this very morning, she'll find a file. A file with power enough to attract the desperate and needy from every corner of the world.

Hank knew this. And because of this, he and Moira agreed it would be far more simple to leave the intriguing file with the school's new headmaster - however stressed she may be. He waited, sipping his black coffee across from Moira in the kitchen. They stared at each other silently, waiting calmly until Ororo would run down the stairs and find them, full of questions and suspicions.

"Hank." Moira broke the stressed silence.

He darted his eyes at her, shaking his head. "Sh! She's coming."

They froze as the front door opening was heard, the staircase being tip-toed upon, and a bedroom door being quietly shut. Hank locked eyes with Moira and they tilted their ears closer towards the ceiling, listening for Ororo above them. Moments of silence passed until a door swung open and tip-toes became running strides.

"Here we go," Hank muttered. "Remember what we talked about, Ororo has the final say. No matter what she chooses."

Moira nodded. "Of course. She is in charge, afterall."

Quickly, Ororo entered the kitchen, her eyes latched on Hank and Moira in the corner breakfast nook. "What is this?" She held the simple file in the air, a look of worry and wonder spread clearly across her face. "What the _fuck_ is this?" She tossed the file onto the table top and crossed her arms in front of herself. Her body visibly shook. "Explain _this_ to me, please! _Now_!"

Moira shot Hank a startled look before jumping up, in front of Ororo. "Ororo...we've found that...that file in the laboratory, while working on Cerebro."

"No," Ororo shook her head. "Cerebro hasn't worked since Charles and Jean's deaths. We haven't met a mutant with telepathic abilities to work with Cerebro. There's so much information in that damn computer, it would overload anyone who wasn't Charles."

Hank stood, "Cerebro is accessible through basic usage. I was able to hack Charles' password and open existing files from the last use of Cerebro. That is how we found this particular file." He smiled sheepishly, "And, as you can tell, we've taken quite an interest in this 'Profile: Fox."

Glaring, Ororo spoke with intensity. "Logan _does not_ have a child."

Hank ignored the rude behavior, he smirked. "A _daughter_, to be exact. She'll be sixteen soon."

She continued to glare, snarling practically. Deep within her, she refused the idea of Logan having children. Absolutely forbid the idea. "You're wrong. How could he keep this from us?"

"He didn't know, dear," Moira spoke gently. "Ororo, no one knew but Charles. We aren't even sure of how Charles knew. All we know is what is placed in that file. The rest is lost within Cerebro." She place a hand on Ororo's shoulder, consoling her and looking softly into her eyes. "Dear, Logan will not leave you."

Ororo sucked in a breath. "What do you mean?"

Moira smiled, a sense of knowing displayed upon her kind, aging face. "I promise. He will not leave you or this school or these children."

"He won't leave because he will not find out about this child."

Hank glared, "You do realize that is extremely selfish, I hope."

She stood straight and placed her hands on her hips. "Logan is my only solid form of security for the time being. As you two are busy daddling with a computer system you cannot fix, there have been no upgrades to the security system. Logan has been sleeping during the day in order to roam the property at night, in search for any threats that may be coming towards this mansion. In case you haven't forgotten, unless I close down this school, children will be attacked. And you both know as well as I that these kids have no where else to go. I cannot close down this school. If I lose Logan, I lose..." she sighed. "everything. I lose everything."

Hank stood solidly before Ororo with all seriousness clearly written on his face. "A man has a right to know who his child is, Ororo." He turned and left instantly.

Ororo watched until Moira silently slipped passed her. "My dear...you...you've made a mistake."

"I want what is best for this school."

Moira nodded, "Perhaps however, you should think of what is best for those you love."

Ororo gasped and choked on her words as Moira quickly slipped from sight.

Love? She didn't love Logan. She barely even liked Logan. He was irrational, and emotional, and ridiculously hot tempered. And...and completely unreliable! And careless, and harsh to the students, and moody. He drank too much, and smoked cigars in the mansion - claiming he lived there too, so he would do as he "damn well" pleased. He spent his free time obsessing over a dead woman and an unknown past, and grumbles about both continuously.

He...was so...lonely, she realized. He was lonely. Logan was possibly the most alone person she had ever encountered. Any form of companionship had been taken away from him. Or - in this new case - had been erased from his memory.

She sat, sighing as she plumped into the wooden chair, and placed her arms on the table. She did not love Logan. She...pitied him, really. She couldn't imagine what her life could have been if Charles hadn't found her and offered her a home at the mansion. Logan, she supposed, had never stayed anywhere as nice or comfortable before joining the X-men. She pouted, feeling a tang of sadness for him.

He wasn't all bad, she supposed. He did hold her while she soaked his flannel shirt with tears. And she distinctly remembered his voice softening and whispering that everything would get better. He smelled like leather and sweat, and cigars. And she felt so...small while his arms were wrapped around her. His big...big...arms.

Her spine tingled.

At that second, Logan entered the kitchen. He headed straight to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug. He turned and leaned against the counter, took a sip, and yawned before catching Ororo just opposite of him. "What's wrong?" He crossed the room quickly.

Ororo didn't speak, didn't look up, and hardly breathed. She stared at the file lying on the table top before her. She searched every corner of her mind. He drove her completely crazy, she rationalized. But, if ever a moment where she would be falling...it would be Logan to catch her before her skull cracked on the ground.

"'Ro?" He sounded worried.

"Logan...sit down, please." She gulped. "Logan...there's something you really aught to know..."

He waited, concerned. "What is it? Somethin' happen last night? All the kids okay?"

She nodded and pursed her lips together. "Logan. Logan, you...you..." She sighed. "Logan...you need to read this file." She pushed it to him.

He frowned at it, glancing at the cover. "What's this?"

"Logan..." she finally reached his gaze with her own. Her heartbeat skipped. "Logan, you have a daughter."

**A/N: Took forever, huh? More to come!**


End file.
